Nachos and Hazelnut Coffee
by Gracie-Joy
Summary: Lizzy's love of Nacho's brings an unlikely guy into her life. Is Darcy going to see past what he thinks his family would expect to embrace the only person who he truly feels alive with? Modern, not LBD. Two shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Modern Pride and Prejudice but not an LBD Universe!**

'**Yes, I love 'Looking for Alaska'.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognize from published materials. Unfortunately.  
**

"_If people were rain, than I'm a drizzle and she's a hurricane_," Darcy read silently, the words gouged into the dark stained desk. His thoughts immediately spiraled in the direction of a particular girl sitting across the library. She was in her usual seat on the other side of dusty shelves where he had a narrow view of the side of her face.

Through the never-ending tunnel of books he could see her hunching over a large textbook, her hands alternating between tapping furiously on the keyboard of her laptop and scribbling hastily across a notepad. There was no rhythm to her movement, no elegance and to his particular mind, no real beauty. She was nothing to the whimsical fantasy Darcy had bestowed upon the image of the girl he would fall in love with.  
The fantasy he imagined he would fall in love with would be tall, graceful and willowy with a sense of humour to match. Her lips would only be blessed with smiles and the occasional pursed lip expression in moments of subdued frustration.

But this girl, this girl with the stubborn curly hair that would slip from behind her ear and bounce in front of her eyes in mockery. This girl with the green eyes that would roll in annoyance at the abusive twisted lock, this girl with the short temper and the frustrated scowls and knees that jiggled with anticipation and excitement…

This girl he couldn't get off of his mind.

She would always sit in the same seat. From Monday to Friday, at eight in the morning she would push through the swinging doors of the library, a bright smile on her face, her hand waving to people she knew. That hand didn't wave at Darcy. In fact Darcy shifted deeper into the shadows of the library, his only view of her made through the gaps in the books.  
Every morning, a messenger bag with obnoxious scrawl over it hanging over her right shoulder tipped her body to the left to stay up right and manage to balance that ridiculous cup of hazelnut coffee she'd bought from a stall outside of the social science department block. The one that promoted the legalization of certain elicit drugs.

Darcy's finger traced around the words of the quote he'd read a thousand times. A hurricane was the most apt description of the girl he couldn't go a minute without her bright eyes popping up in his mind. He'd met her once and really he hadn't met her at all.

"_Excuse me," he muttered. He pushed his hands deeper into the pockets of his jeans, his head ducked down to avoid eye contact if he could help it. The parade had been going on for hours and would continue to go for hours more but there was only so much time he could spend in the library studying for his examination before he needed to refuel with a double shot of coffee. Loud music drummed his ears and he wearily pushed back hair from his face, for once not worried for his lack of care of his appearance. All he wanted was for the parade to end, the party to stop in his dorm and to return to the quiet he was so used to._

"_Oh I am so sorry!" a voice said over his cursing. Burning coffee spilt from his cup and sloshed over his bare hand and over his light blue button up shirt. His eyes closed briefly in an attempt to control his anger and he only vaguely heard the babbling voice beside him. "Are you burnt? Should I get some ice for you hand…?" he opened his eyes and he couldn't move. She was barely the height of his shoulder, her own hands grasping two steaming cups of liquid: Hazelnut and chai. Her own latte's had spilled onto not only his Levi Strauss jeans but on her dark blue blazer and black and white striped shirt. But that's not what made him stop. It was her eyes…_

_They were a deep moss green with flecks of molten gold rimmed with an unusual dark blue. Like a dusky sky when a sunset has finally faded but the sun still refused to disappear. He'd never met anything so mesmerizing, so utterly imperfect. They had no real distinct colour and yet he was lost in them. They were intelligent, amused, sympathetic…nachos. Wait, nachos?  
"…the stall was just on that side and I wasn't looking and I swear, Nachos are the most perfect food. Have you ever tried guacamole? Because it is _divine_. Once my sister, Jane, she tried making it and it was a disaster. Those guys over there saved our day and I was just so excited to see them and I didn't see you and are you sure you don't want some ice?" A long pause followed and he wondered how anyone's eyelashes could be so perfect or how her skin could be so flawless save a small smattering of freckles that highlighted her perfect nose._

"_So that's a 'no' to the ice?" she asked, a small smile twitching at her bemused lips. Darcy cleared his throat and shook his head.  
"No." the word was strangled, almost bluntly rude and he immediately cringed at the small frown that formed a divot between her eyebrows.  
"I suppose free coffee won't help?" she offered a cup gingerly forward, the one that had hardly spilled. The word 'hazelnut' was printed messily on the side and his nose twitched.  
"I don't like hazelnut."  
The two blinked at each other for a moment before an emotion passed over her eyes that he could not interpret.  
She let out an amused snort before mock curtseying in front of him and backing away slowly.  
"I'm afraid I can offer nothing else. I truly am sorry. I hope you do well in your exams."_

They were the final words from her lips and he'd been enraptured ever since. But she was not the kind of girl he could he could get to know. She was not the kind of girl he _would_ get to know.

Darcy gritted his teeth in frustration, jammed his books under his arms and retreating to the far end of the library to gather his thoughts. She was a distraction he couldn't afford. He had a degree to finish, he had a company to run. He had a sister to take care of. He had a family name to up hold. He couldn't allow for distractions especially from a girl he knew nothing about.

"Excuse me, would you be able to reach that book?" Darcy froze at the sound of her voice. It was exactly as he'd remembered. Down to earth but feminine and even the simple question of a book held a lilted memory of a previous joke. He forced himself to turn and meet those eyes that weakened his knees and he saw her face transform into a rhapsody of amusement.

"Oh, it's you," she mused, her arms crossed over her chest and she began to bob on her toes.  
"I hope you're not mad about your coffee still," she smiled broadly. Darcy failed to see where she found amusement. Was she laughing at him? Did she know that he watched her five days a week and the other two days he could only wish he was spending his time studying her instead of his books?  
"I'm not mad," he managed to say. She watched him for a calculated moment before asking once more.  
"Can you get my book?" jerking her chin up to the top shelf. His lips twitched in amusement and he nodded.  
"The blue one. 'History and Truth'," she clarified. Darcy reached for the book and placed it in her hands.  
"An interesting topic." He spoke the words before he had even formulated them in his mind and he learnt something new in that moment.

He loved surprising her. The way her eyes widened impossibly more, her lips parted ever so slightly…

Her surprise morphed into a mischievous smile. "Only the most significant events are covered in lies."  
Darcy swallowed hard and stretched his mind for the meaning behind her words. He ran over the one and only conversation they'd ever had…  
"I really don't like Hazelnut," he spurted out. He jammed his jaw closed and his fists clenched, berating himself for his outburst. _Darcy, you complete fool_ he mentally scowled.

She laughed out loud and dusted the cover of her book. "I never said you didn't," she assured him. She stood there smiling and Darcy wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. He'd never spoken to a girl he didn't know. The only girls he spoke to were the ones directly introduced to him.

"I'm Lizzy by the way. Thank you for the book…" she trailed off, waiting for him to fill in his name, pushing back that stubborn curl that refused to stay in her bun.

"Darcy. William Darcy," he said automatically, his eyes never drifted from her face. He couldn't get enough of it as his heart catatonically raced within his chest.

"Well, thank you, Darcy, William Darcy. Maybe I'll see you around." She slipped away then and left Darcy to his thoughts. His scolding, berating, critical thoughts. _Idiot, Darcy. Now you have to speak to her. No. No, you don't. Just push her away, she'll forget you by tomorrow…_

"I knew you'd be here," Lizzy slid into the chair opposite Darcy's usual desk at the library and he blinked in surprise at her sudden entrance. He'd missed her usually loud welcome to the library in his dreary state. His dreams had been haunted by the very eyes before him. He'd been restless and unsure, positive he as doing the right thing by blocking her out.

"How would you know that?" he asked, internally amused but his words came out almost critically. She only let out a quiet snicker and pulled her books from her bag. No more words were spoken between them and Darcy was left to wonder why this girl in front of him kept coming back. Was she lonely? She had plenty of friends and more than a few of them were of the male variety.

From the cover of his textbook he snuck glances at her waiting for a moment when he knew she knew about his wealth and she was a gold-digger. Nope. Not once did she show any signs of wanting anything from him. No sneaky foot taps, no accidental knee touches, no flirtatious fluttering of the eyes, no sneaky hands brushing up against him.  
He returned, puzzled, to his study, narrowly missing the glance Lizzy sent his way.

"Sometimes it helps if you actually read," Lizzy commented. Darcy flinched at the sound of her voice and he met her eyes in surprise.

"I can't," he managed to get out and then a blush filled his cheeks, something he hadn't experienced since middle school. He didn't attempt to fix his stumble knowing he would only make it worse.

"Want to get out of here seeing as you are positively unable to read? I could finally pay you back for that coffee I spilled on your shirt?" she smiled and closed her book with a louder thump than necessary. Darcy glanced around at the library hesitantly, positive he should get some work done. Instead he closed his book and pushed his chair back on the carpeted floors.

"Of course," he said. LIzzy's grin widened and in an untidy wave of gathering her papers and stuffing them into her bag she lead the way out the library and down the campus to a quiet café.

After they ordered coffee, Lizzy wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck and they began to wander the grounds, slowly walking a lap around the park. Darcy had been mostly silent, unsure of what to say to this vibrant girl who could apparently talk to the leg off a wooden table.

"You don't say much do you," Lizzy mused, glancing up as Darcy took a sip of his steaming coffee. Double shot of course.

"You say enough for both of us," Darcy slipped out almost immediately. His tongue burned from the liquid he quickly slurped up, embarrassed by his quick response. Only it sent Lizzy into a peal of laughter. He was surprised to find a small smile tickling his mouth at the sound and the sight of her eyes crinkling up in delight.

"I'll give you that one," she said graciously, her hand twisting her cup in circles. "What do you want to do, Darcy?"

"Now?" he asked hesitantly, silently wishing he could ask to touch her hair just to see if it was as soft as he imagined being.

"No, in life, Darcy. William Darcy," she said, her held tilted curiously to the side. Darcy shrugged uncomfortably not wanting to admit he didn't have a choice in what he wanted to do in life. His life was already planned out by his long gone parents. Finish his business and law degree, work at the firm that is his legacy and carry on the Darcy name. She had no idea.

"What do you want to do?" he diverted the question and Lizzy launched enthusiastically into a tale he could only admire.

"I want to change the world, Darcy, William Darcy. I want to affect change; I want to make people see that they have a choice in life. I want to move boulders and show people that it only takes one person to start a rollercoaster. I want to be a bird. I want to stop world hunger and start world peace. I want to _be someone_ people can talk to about fixing their lives." She was so passionate, so enthusiastic. Darcy just watched her expressions change from excited, to serious, to passionate and he wondered how many things such a small person could feel. When she finished he just stared at her.

"Some people don't have a choice," he finally managed to say. He wanted to be enthusiastic for her, to encourage her but those words, they harboured his feelings all too well. She smiled a tiny smile at him and stopped walking.  
He turned to face her, waiting for the torrent to come, for her to tell him he was wrong. And he was glad when she didn't. He didn't want to hear it. He could imagine her saying his name…

"Why do you call me that?" he suddenly asked. Inwardly he cursed once more, positive his tongue had a mind of his own. He hadn't meant to complete ignore her passion for life.

"What?" Lizzy swirled the remnants of her coffee in the bottom of the cup with an amused smile.

"Darcy, William Darcy."

Amused eyes met his and she punched his arm. "Because I've always wanted to meet someone who introduced themselves like James Bond. Bond, James Bond!" she dissolved into laughter and Darcy couldn't help but join in with a small chuckle.

Maybe Lizzy Bennet wouldn't be too hard to get to know. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad thing…

Darcy had never in his life felt so _alive_. She made him do things he would never have thought of doing in his life. They built forts from blankets in her tiny dorm room, they coated popcorn in honey and icing sugar and she turned him into a 'snowman' and to his surprise he'd laughed and in revenge taped a carrot to her forehead as she fell asleep during a movie. They went bowling and she pushed him down the lane and he tickled her until she couldn't breathe. She whispered him stories about people she'd never meant and he'd laugh at the absurdity of her musings. She would make dinner and they would talk late into the night and then he would make dinner and they'd talk even later.

Darcy was falling harder for Lizzy Bennet than he thought possibly. He reasoned with himself that it was only natural to be friends with someone so lively and vibrant. He would deny the feelings that came creeping in, he would stow them away but secretly hope to hear her laugh on the street as he sat in a café with a study group.

"Yo, Darcy, William Darcy!" her laughing figure dropped down next to him and he smiled at her, his eyes refusing to leave the page of his textbook because he knew if they did, there was no going back to the dull black and white pages.

"Why do you insist on calling me that?" he grunted, though secretly pleased she had a nickname for him.

"I told you, I like James Bond," she crowed.

"Why are you so loud today?"

She punched his arm and he grunted, finally looking up at her beautiful eyes. He studied her once more and decided she wasn't the prettiest girl he had ever met but everything about her made her beautiful. She wasn't that tall and willowy girl he imagined he'd fall in love with but to him, she was perfect in every way.

"What do you want from me?" he groaned and fell backwards onto the grass.

"That is the most ungraceful thing I have ever seen my pompous Darcy do," Lizzy snickered. Darcy's heart leapt at her choice of words and he felt the blood inside him quicken. _Her Darcy_?

"I wanted to tell you I am going away for the next couple of days," she said.

Darcy froze and rolled his head to look at her. Away? Only for a couple of days though…

"My father has been sick so my family needs me home. Jane needs my help with mother."

Jane. Her sister. Her beloved older sister. Of course, it was selfish of him to think that he can keep her here. But it didn't feel right that she was leaving like this.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she laughed hesitantly. Darcy realized he had risen back to a sitting position and was staring at her intently.

"When do you leave?" he managed to ask. Lizzy checked her watch and glanced over her shoulder.

"Now. The taxi driver gave me five minutes to say goodbye," she pushed her hair back behind her ear and jumped to her feet.  
"So this is me leaving. I'll be back soon," she said cheerfully, her eyes dancing with the happiness of going home but Darcy was sure he saw something else in those magical eyes. Something that wanted to stay there with him. She was already half way to the taxi when he jumped to his feet and ran after her.

"Lizzy!" he called. She spun to see him in confusion and what he hoped he saw was longing. He stopped in front of her, their bodies so close he could feel the heat of her body radiating towards his.

"You know, your love of long pauses is admirable and all but honestly I'm going to be late if you don't-" He cut her off but swiftly pulling her close by the waist and pressing his lips softly against hers. She was frozen for all of a second before she responded and wrapped her arms around his back and neck, kissing him back with all the heat and passion he knew she held inside of her.

In that short ten seconds of closeness, Darcy only knew one thing. That he had entirely fallen for Lizzy Bennet and the way her body fit so tightly against his own.

Darcy pulled away first, both breathless. He stroked the soft skin of her cheek and inwardly swelled at the sight of her surprised expression. He had always loved that look. Always.

He walked away then. He didn't say anything, He didn't have anything to say. He turned his back and refused to glance over his shoulder at where he knew she stood in a bubble of confusion.

The only thing that could ruin his day was the phone call he received in the wee hours of the morning. One that sent him out the door before he could even pack.

**A/N: This was originally a one shot but it began to grow so long I've decided it shall be a two part story! Excitement? Yayy!**

**I hope you like this! Let me know of any mistakes!**

**Please Review!**

**-GracieJoy.**


	2. Part 2

**Part Two.**

**Disclaimer: **

Darcy laid still, the covers pushed back from his body letting the cold creep into his bones. It was the only way he could feel something in the bright moonlit room. He was numb. Numb to his surroundings, numb to the agony and despair he felt over his sister. Numb to the way he heard her cries from across the hall.  
Something was missing. He knew that. He could feel it. He felt it in his house, in his bed, in his heart. He was empty. He'd always been empty but this time it was worse. It was worse because once tragedy struck, he had no one to help him.  
What scared him the most was that the only way he could imagine feeling whole again was if he could look into those brilliant eyes he so often imagined, held her small body next to his and brushed his hands through those wild curls. He imagined that would make it all feel okay again which didn't make sense to the logical Darcy. How can one person mean so much in a world full of people?

Darcy sighed and climbed out of bed, padding his way to the kitchen downstairs. His feet tingled from the cold but he ignored it telling himself he enjoyed the pain. He enjoyed the way he could feel things other than anger, betrayal and disappointment.

"William?" a soft voice spoke from the doorway. He swung around to see his sister, her light skin and hair illuminated in the moonlight. She looked as innocent as he believed she had been. He still believed she was. At seven years younger than he, she was only sixteen. Sixteen and she knew more about the world than anyone her age should.

"Georgie. I thought you'd be asleep," he said slowly. He still wasn't sure what he was supposed to be. A stern father figure? A comforting brother? A distant guardian? He didn't know what she needed.

"No. I couldn't. I just keep thinking about-" her voice cracked and he watched as silent tears began to seep from her eyes. He wordlessly crossed the floor and pulled her into an embrace. _A comforting brother_, he thought as she leant into his chest and cried racking sobs. But it felt odd to him. He wished once more for that feminine figure that would know exactly what to do. She needed a mother, a sister, a woman who understood. He didn't know what she needed.

Lizzy would know. Lizzy always knew what to say, or what not to say. She knew when to let a silence stretch and when to pick at threads to begin a comforting conversation. Lizzy understood people. She would change the world he realized, just like she dreamed to do. But maybe not in his life anymore. No, in his life she had to stay far away.

He patted her head gently and lead her back up to her room, tucking her into bed, kissing her forehead silently and closing the door.

"What am I to do?" he whispered to the empty house.

"Darcy. William Darcy," a familiar voice stated cheerfully. Darcy attempted not to groan and slowly, as though in pain, lifted his head to see her looking down on him. He was seated at a bench on campus, and she positioned in front of him, scarf wrapped around her neck, a cream blazer, similar to the blue one she wore at the parade, blocked out the wind. Her nose was red from the cold and her hands dug deep in the pockets of her coat.

"I've been wondering where you have been," she said brightly.

"I've been busy," he commented shortly. He didn't want to be so cold and distant. He wanted to be excited, he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. But he couldn't. He remembered the look on his sister's face three weeks ago when he had discovered her with George Wickham. He remembered the way her face clouded in misery as George finally accepted the bribe to keep quiet about his sister's indiscretions…

Maybe once being with someone like Lizzy Bennet would have been an acceptable risk, but now? Now he couldn't afford anything that could jeopardize the name of his family. He knew she was a scholarship student and he had seen her family visit for day tips and the way her sisters prowled the grounds like hormonal teenagers. He couldn't let this happen. One mark on the Darcy name was enough. He'd been willing to sacrifice his own name for her, but now? Two marks were too many. He could only cringe at what his parents would think.

"Saving the world no doubt," she teased and characteristically pushed back that one wavey length of hair. He stared at it for a moment, wishing he could push it back behind her ears himself.

"Something like that," he muttered. Every part of him ached to touch her and he knew she felt the same. He knew she wanted to talk about where he had been, why he hadn't been returning her calls, what was making him so distant. She watched him silently, a silence growing between them. Silence wasn't an uncommon thing between them but what was uncommon was the awkwardness that hung between them like an invisible barrier.

"You haven't returned my calls." The words weren't said in accusation but gently, caringly, worriedly.

"I've been busy," he said again. Lizzy frowned openly and sat next to him on the bench, her tiny hand reaching hesitantly over to grasp his large warm one.

"What's going on, Darce? I've been worried about you," she squeezed his hand and Darcy did all he could not to squeeze it back. Internally he struggled about this dark haired beauty sitting before him, caring for him, worrying about him. It had been a long time since someone had worried about him. He watched the way he eyes flicked to every part of his face, gauging his every reaction, his every movement.

He pulled away his hand.

"Everything is fine," he told her firmly and stood, looking down on her. If perfection could be a picture it would be the way those eyes he so admired watched him with such precision and calculation.

"I don't believe you," Lizzy whispered, clasping her hands together against the cold.

Darcy cleared his throat before averting his eyes and saying, "We can't be friends anymore, Lizzy." He didn't see the confusion that sprung across her face or the hurt that flashed across her taught lips.

"Why? What's going on, Darcy?"

"We're not friends. We never really were," he stated, his eyes trained back on hers, desperately hoping his own eyes didn't betray the lie he was speaking to both of them. She didn't speak, only stared at him blankly and this was worse.

"Aren't you going to say something?"

"I'm waiting for the punch line."

"I don't tell jokes."

"Jane was right. You are an arrogant arse."

Darcy could only find it amusing that the first time he heard her cuss was in reference to him. He felt the sting of her words more deeply than he let show.

"You're not going to say anything?" he asked. Somewhere he wished she would yell. He wished she would scream at him, be angry at him, hit him across the face with the palm of her hand.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked softly, she pulled the scarf tighter around her neck and gave a hysterical laugh. "It's okay, Darcy. You're right, we're not friends. We never were."

"I'm glad you feel the same way," Darcy said stiffly. Lizzy nodded in agreement before jumping to her feet and clearing her throat.

"Goodbye, William Darcy. It was a pleasure."

_She didn't say it. She didn't say my nickname, the only nickname I've ever had_, Darcy's mind reeled he spun on his heel as he watched Lizzy see a guy she know and throw herself in his arms. Jealousy grappled at his heart and he angrily threw it away. She didn't matter to him.

_Just one more. One more won't help_, Darcy thought and chugged back another shot glass. He'd never done shots before until he met Lizzy. He'd only ever been interested in the finest of wines and perhaps the odd decanter of bourbon. He remembered the look on her face when he told her that. Her expression had gone from shock to amusement to mischief to grim determination to take him to a bar and educate him in the art of the shot glass. He didn't remember much of that night. The only thing he remembered was waking up and he remembered it as the moment he knew she was the one…

_Something was tickling his chin. Darcy frowned in his sleep and moved his hand to brush it away but his eyes sprung open when he found a dead weight lying on top of it. Dark curly hair was the first thing he saw and instantly his heart leapt into his throat. What had happened?_

_He wiggled his toes and realized his shoes were still firmly on his feet along with the rest of his clothing. He hoped Lizzy could say the same. Kind of._

_She stirred in her sleep and rolled in his arms, her face pressing into his chest before rolling back a little, her body finding its point of balance on. Darcy couldn't breath. He couldn't even blink. All he could see was her perfect porcelain skin smattered with childish freckled. He saw a slight flush to her cheeks from last nights alcohol and even though they're managed to skip showers last night she still smelt like the faded lily perfume she always wore mingled with the scent of vanilla shampoo. _

_How was she so perfect?_

_But he couldn't stay. Darcy had never found himself in such a predicament, even in the early years of his university degree. He gently slipped his arm out from underneath her body, cold immediately chilling where her skin had touched his._

_He pressed a light kiss to her perfect cheek and closed the apartment door quietly behind him._

She never mentioned that night but had only shot confused glances from the corner of her eye, her memory apparently as much impaired as his had been from the intoxicating drinks.

Darcy threw back another glass and slammed it on the table, his neighbour jumping in fright at the sudden movement. He only glanced at them with bleary, red blood shot eyes before scowling. That look of fright. It was almost the same as the look his sister had given him when he'd stumbled upon his sister in the arms of George Wickham.

_Darcy bounded up the steps of his home, anger already etched along the creases in his eyes and the set of his jaw. A telephone call from his cousin, Richard, telling him he'd spotted Georgie with someone who looked suspiciously like the double-crossing Wickham, was the last thing he needed to deal with right now._

"_Georgie?!" He shouted as soon as the door slammed shut, echoing in the empty mansion._

"_William?" A voice called from he thought was the living room. A relieved sigh almost escaped his lips before he recognized something in her voice. Panic. He heard hushed mutters and it only made him push faster to the room where he found them shrugging shirts back over their heads._

"_What the hell is going on?" he shouted. And that's when he saw it. Fear. It flashed over her clear blue eyes, over her quivering jaw and her trembling, outstretched hands and he almost faltered in his anger before he saw the same flash of fear stretch across Wickham's face before fading beneath a façade of calm._

"_I love him!" she'd begged, entirely missing the smirk that twirked at Wickham's lips. But Darcy didn't miss it.  
"He's lying to you, Georgie. You can't trust him. He only wants you for what you own, not for who you are," he told her, a growl in the undertone of his words. His eyes never left Wickham._

_They argued then, a battle between siblings, an honest plea and a firm denial…_

His head rested against the bar, his palms flat across the gritty surface and he imagined it was covered in tiny germs, waiting to eat away at his skin. It didn't really bother him, not in the way the pleas of his sister had disturbed his soul and the ache for Lizzy gnawed at him like the sharp tooth of a tiger gnawed at a bone. It made his bones splinted and prickle.

Someone prodded his arm and he jerked in his seat, tipping from the stool and landing in a heap on the floor. He imagined he heard a sigh but that would have been impossible over the pounding music unless the person was right next to his ear.

He was outside next and the cold air hit his cheeks and the skin on his arms and realized he'd left his coat behind, only he didn't have the will or the power to turn around and go back for them. He couldn't feel anything and his bleary eyes could only see a shadow of the figure in front of him, gripping his hand and tugging him down the road back towards his door room. He didn't even realize that was what the shadow was doing.

He heard a door open and then close, he saw shadows and light and the blinding white and he shielded his eyes till the black and red curtain dulled to complete darkness. He didn't remember the rest.

He was doing it again. _If people were rain then I'm a drizzle and she's a hurricane._ The words hadn't changed, if anything they'd become more of a reality to Darcy. There he was, miserably watching as that dark haired passionate girl studied furiously while he wallowed in his misery, unable to take his eyes away from her, unable to forget the memory of when her lips had pressed against his in that one heated moment.

What killed him even more to see the way she was unaffected by his absence. She still laughed and chatted, he still spied her sitting in study groups at the café down the street and in classrooms with wide glass windows that shone the light on her hair and made her eyes light up like nothing he'd ever seen.

Once he'd bumped into her on the path to the library. He'd planned it perfectly. He could see her from the window in the far corner of the library coming down the street. As soon as he saw her he had run to the front door waiting till he saw her head of brown hair bobbing up the steps. He swung the door open just at the moment she reached it, knocking into her shoulder, the pile of books in her arms, that didn't seem to fit in her bag, went flying across the steps. He mumbled, apologized, picked up her books, glanced into her eyes and he thought he saw something in them. Or better yet, something not in them. Something she had lost when he'd rejected her.

But he knew he was fooling himself. She didn't care. She'd straightened that cream blazer with the black edging, piled her books back up and with a genuine smile pushed her way into the library. She hadn't uttered a word.

He kept to himself after that. He didn't try and intercept her at the coffee shop or the library or when she was heading out to dinner with her sister.

He only watched her from afar because he knew nothing could be between them. He knew that from the whispers that were beginning to circulate around his company and the gossipers that were speaking loudly enough for his sister to hear. He couldn't erase the haunting sobs over the phone. It was enough that Wickham had broken her heart but now he was ruining her future as well. He had a powerful company and it had a lot of influence. He had to control all whispers.

But that's when he saw it. Lizzy and her new…friend. The tall man snuck behind her, covered her eyes with his hands and whispered in her ear. Darcy threw back his chair and began to stalk angrily over to Lizzy's table…

No.

He couldn't. Lizzy would know there was history there. She would learn about his sister, she might tell her sister, her sister might tell a friend, that friend could tell anyone…

It wasn't worth the risk. He would have to get to Wickham behind the scenes.

He returned to his seat and seethed as the man flirted with his Lizzy. He openly scowled as the man made her throw her head back and laugh, silent tears of laughter streaming down her cheeks when she tried to something her giggles as she was asked politely to keep the noise down.

He had enough. He slipped out of the library before his mind clouded over with the anger that had haunted him for so long. Before this new anger overwhelmed him and he said something he regretted.

He didn't see them again until three nights later. He was walking back to his dorm from a class when he saw his hand resting on her lower back, ushering her in line into a bar that was on campus. His head swiveled around, eyes constantly darting from face to face, the occasionally eyebrow lift and quirky smile was shot in the direction of a pretty girl. Lizzy didn't seem to notice.

Darcy felt the pressure rising behind his ears and he slunk into line behind them, dumping his books under a bush. He tried to stay behind the tall men in the crowd, making sure Wickham's line of sight stayed well away form him. They entered the bar a few minutes before him and it took him a moment to gather his bearings as he entered the scene he was so unfamiliar with. The flashing lights, the pounding music, the loud chatter and flirtatious laughter. It disgusted him that Wickham would take her here. He could have at least chosen a higher-class bar instead of a cheap student club.

Darcy scowled in disgust and adjusted the sleeves of his shirt to make sure they were rolled evenly on each side. More than a few hands pressed against his arms, clutched to his side as he made his way to the back of the bar where he saw Wickham with his arm wrapped around Lizzy. It almost made him smirk to see Lizzy slightly uncomfortable as he pressed his lips close to her ear and murmur something. She laughed politely of course, but then gestured to the dance floor in the direction where Darcy stood.

He cursed and ducked into the shadows so they didn't see him. Lizzy would know he had followed them inside. He never went to clubs bars, pubs or anything with a title associated with drinking unless it was a vineyard. She'd practically had to force him into one the last time.

They danced. Close. Too close. It was almost too much for Darcy to handle and he slipped out of the club an hour alter when the clock was ticking closer to twelve and he knew Wickham wouldn't make any moves just yet.

But he couldn't leave. Not just yet. He jogged around the campus until he found the alley beside Lizzy's dorm room. He waited in the cold, the air around him billowing like a train and he prayed them to hurry back. He also prayed he hadn't jumped to conclusions that Wickham wouldn't pounce yet.

But he was right. Half an hour later when Darcy was positive his toes had frozen and his fingers were well on their way to becoming icicles they came into view. They were laughing together, his hand firmly wrapped around her waist, his eyes gazing into hers whenever possible. Lizzy blushed under those eyes. She'd never blushed under his…

He still had to make sure she was okay before he left her to live her life.

She didn't invite him in and he heard her laughing at something he said. His ears strained closer to listen.

"No, you don't' have to walk me to the door. It's fine," she giggled and she saw her place a hand on his arms. Not in a seductive way, but friendly. Maybe a tiny bit flirtatiously but definitely friendly.

"Okay," he agreed with a chuckle and stared into her eyes. "Thank you for going out with me. We should do this again some time," he suggested. Lizzy nodded after what he thought was a moments hesitation. Her eyes flicked up the street where she knew his dorm complex was located before smiling.

"I'd like that," she agreed. And then his heart stuttered. She reached up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you." And then she went inside, the door quietly closing behind her. Wickham chuckled to himself and began to whistle down the street, close to where Darcy was huddling in the dull light. He acted before he realized what he was doing.

He stepped into the lights and grabbed Wickham by the lapels of his jacket and pushed him against the wall. He heard his head smack against bricks sickeningly. "What do you think you're doing?" he hissed in his face. Wickham's face turned ashen before a cheeky grin stretched across his face.

"Darcy. Surprised to find me with your girl?" Darcy shoved him against the wall non too gently, the angry men's breaths swirling together like a flame fighting flame.

"You're not going to see her again."

"You know how I found her? With two cups of coffee standing outside the male dorms. I happened to find out your room number from your lovely sister you know. I asked her what the matter was and she said. 'Number sixteen is my favourite number.' What a coincidence that she was holding your favourite coffee, standing outside your dorm and telling me your dorm number. She was quite the heart broken doll. I couldn't help but cheer her up. It's a talent of yours isn't it, old man, disappointing young girls hopes." Darcy gripped harder against his jacket and growled fiercely. Part of him was excited that she reciprocated his feelings while the other part was angry at what he'd done to her.

"Don't. Touch. Her. Ever. Or you will regret it. You won't understand what it's like to live a normal life again."

With that Darcy shoved him against the wall one more time, feeling Wickham quivering still from the tight hold the bigger man had on him before he sauntered out of the alley and back up to his dorm complex. He was still shaking with blind rage when he slammed the door of his room closed.

Wickham was around Lizzy more than ever and Darcy was losing his patience. He witnessed him kiss her soundly on the lips, tickle her without mercy in the park, bring her coffee when she was studying and hold her close in the cold. He met her eye once on accident and she took a step towards him before Wickham tugged at her hand and pulled her in another direction, Wickham's eyes daring to latch onto Darcy's in mirth.

"Stop worrying about me, Georgie. I'm fine," he told his sister, holding his phone tucked to his shoulder while his textbook lay open before him.

"_William, you've been down for so long. It's been two months since you came home and I know its not what happened that is making you like this. It's that girl isn't it. That Lizzy. What happened? Why aren't you with her?"_

"It's complicated."

She snorted over the line. _"Right. Why?"_

"It just is. We can't afford to have someone with no influence in our family anymore, Georgie. You've heard the whispers. They're spreading and they're becoming more outrageous. Everyone expects me to have a high society partner. I'll just have to find one. Later."

Georgie sent a hysterical laugh over the phone line accompanied by unattractive sniffles.

"_William. You're an idiot. Who cares? She made you happy. I'd never heard you so happy before and just because I made a mistake it doesn't mean you should be paying for it. IF I don't meet this Lizzy girl in the next few weeks I'm coming over to talk to her myself. The company can afford for you to be looked down on for a time. In the next couple of years who's going to even remember where she came from?_"

She had a point. Darcy knew that. He'd churned it over in his own mind a million times but it was more than that now. It was his pride. He'd rejected her and it made him cringe to come crawling back.

"Goodbye, Georgie," he said as she made her excuses and goodbyes. She hung up without saying another word and he was left to his thoughts.

She was right really. The company could afford it. And he needed her. He needed Lizzy in his life to make him feel complete, to help him live to help him not to drown in his own thoughts and musings.

Darcy threw his highlighter across the room and bolted down the stairs. He didn't notice that the clock had already struck eleven O' clock and that Lizzy was probably already curled up in bed, asleep to the world.

He pushed past the light snow that was beginning to fall and ripped open the door to her dorm block taking the stairs three at a time with his long legs.

He heard shouting down the corridor but that didn't stop him. His fist was knocking at her door before he'd even stopped.

"Lizzy?" he asked through the door. The light was shining on his shoes from beneath the white door. That's when he realized the shouting was coming from the inside. He frowned and pressed his ear closer.

"Don't touch me!" he heard her shout and that was enough for him to rip open the door to reveal the scene unfolding inside.

Wickham had his lips latched to her mouth, his hands grabbing at her small arms. But she was struggling beneath him. She kicked at his shins and her fists tried to pump at his chest, her body wriggling as much as she could under his iron grip.

Red filled Darcy's vision his hands grabbed Wickham, throwing him from Lizzy.

"William!" Lizzy gasped and he pulled her behind his body protectively, her fists bunching to the back of his shirt.

"I told you not to go near her," he said softly to the man pushing himself to his feet.

"Out of my way, Darcy," he growled.

"Not going to happen. You've hurt to many of the people I love in this lifetime."

Wickham scowled and edged his way closer to the door. The cowards way out. Darcy unlatched Lizzy's hands from his shirt and his fist was connecting to George's face before any of them realized what was happening.

A sickening crunch followed the connection of flesh on flesh.

Wickham groaned, his hands caressing his nose, blood streaming down, mingling with tears that made a track of their own.

"Don't come back." Darcy whispered and he ran from the room, blood dripping onto the wooden floors.

Silence followed his stumbling, drunk-like, departure.

Darcy met Lizzy's eyes and tried to read everything that crossed them. Fear, relief, uncertainty, shock…

"Lizzy…" he began and took a step towards her trembling figure. He paused when she held out her hand to stop him. Hurt flushed through him and his fist tightened, feeling the ache in the fingers that had connected with Wickham's face.

"How do you know him?" she struggled, refusing to let tears fall from her eyes. She was strong, Darcy realized. Stronger than other girls he'd known. Stronger than even he was.

"Do you want some tea?" he asked instead. Lizzy nodded slowly and the moved to the tiny kitchen area, flicking on the kettle, neither of them speaking until two cups of steaming tea were held in their hands and they were settled on opposite ends of the couch.

Darcy made sure Lizzy as wrapped warmly up in a blanket before he began. He looked into her wide beautifully flawed eyes as he began his tale. His parents, his friendship with Wickham, Wickham's betrayal of trust, his sister…Everything.

"But why did you leave me like that? Why couldn't you tell me?" she whispered. Both sympathy and anger laced her words and he shuddered under her penetrating gaze.

"I thought it would hurt my sister. Where we're from. They're brutal people, they pick at every detail of your life and I couldn't risk it. I couldn't put myself in front of my sister. But I was wrong about everything. Lizzy, I was so wrong," he whispered. He shuffled closer to her side, and gripped her hands that were still warm from the teacup she had held just minutes before. They were small and fragile yet they held a strength that he knew he could depend on.

"Is it because I don't come from a…wealthy family?" Lizzy asked. He couldn't tell if she was angry or not so he only nodded. All he wanted to do was be honest with her. He wanted her to know him for all he was worth and still have him.

"I get it. You're just trying to protect her. Your sister. But why didn't you just tell me? I would have helped you, Darcy," she said softly, her hand slipping from his and resting on his cheek. His heart quickened at her touch and he swallowed heavily.

"I know. I was just so….angry. I wasn't thinking clearly and these whole two months I haven't spoken to you. I thought you didn't care I thought-" he cut off and let go of her hands.

"Do you care? Do you care for me like I do for you? Because I know I care for you more than any one in this world and when Wickham was here it drove me insane. I couldn't handle it. I just love you…"

Her sharp intake of breath halted his words and he cursed. _Too fast, Old man_ he scolded himself.

"You love me?" she asked softly, looking up at him through her thick lashes.

He nodded.

"Yes. Yes I do. I've loved you the moment you spilt coffee all over my clothes and told me how nachos were your favourite thing in the world." He waited for her to say something. Anything but she just watched him silently.

He grew uncomfortable not knowing how she felt or what she was thinking and he began to stumble over words that made no sense to him.

"Lizzy, say something. Anything. Give me a chance to let you love me too, I know that I've screwed up majorly and most of the time I look like I belong on a wall instead of being an animated living being but you bring myself out of my shell and make me someone I knew I could always be-"

She kissed him.

She didn't wait for him to finish or at least she knew that he wouldn't stop unless she did something drastic. And kissing him was the most drastic thing she could think of.

His hands pulled her closer to him until she was almost sitting on his lap and her arm was wrapped around his waist and up his shoulder while the other rested on his neck.

When he pulled away, their breathing was evenly heavy, both their hearts pounding, both with smiles twitching at their lips.

"I don't know if I love you yet, Darcy, William Darcy. But I do know that I have every possibility of falling very, very, very hard."

That was enough for Darcy. It was enough for him to know that the girl with the brilliant, haunting, magical, hurricane eyes could care for him and one day, she could love him.

It was more than enough.

**The End!**

**Sorry for the slight delay but I hope you've enjoyed this! Please do review, lovely people. I love hearing from you even if it's constructive criticism ! (:**

**x**


End file.
